


Words

by Daughter_of_the_Mountains



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Accidental Book Tearing, Brothers, Cuddling and Snuggling, Don't Be Mad At Glóin It was An Accident, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Gróin Is A Lovely Father, Kid Fic, No Dwarflings Were Harmed During The Writing Of This Story, loss of temper, sort of
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-11-15
Updated: 2014-10-31
Packaged: 2018-02-23 09:14:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,594
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2542220
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Daughter_of_the_Mountains/pseuds/Daughter_of_the_Mountains
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Trying to study while his parents are at the mines and he has a chronically bored little brother running about proves to be more difficult than Óin anticipated.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Words

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Bofur1](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bofur1/gifts).



Glóin was bored. Completely, undeniably, _horribly_ bored. The 35-year-old beardling kept a hopeful pair of eyes fixed on his elder brother, who stubbornly refused to look up from his book. Minutes passed by until Glóin couldn't take anymore quietness and lack of fun.  Padding to his brother, he balanced on his tip-toes and pulled his brother's sleeve.

No response.

Glóin  frowned. "Óin!" he called. Then, when his brother still didn't answer, he tried again. " _Ói-in_!"

"What?" Óin asked, black eyes still firmly fixed on the squiggles on the pages.

"I'm _bored_."

"What d'you want me to do about it?"

"Will you play? Please?"

"Later, I'm a bit busy." Óin said.

"No you're not, you're readin'."

It was true and Óin's mouth twitched. "I'm studyin', not readin'. Why don't _you_ go read if you're bored?"

Glóin  looked thoughtfully at him and then placed a tiny foot on the rung of his brother's chair. "With you?"

"Aye, if you must."

With this permission granted, Glóin  pushed his brother's arms up and clambered his way onto his lap, curling himself up  against the cushiony warmth of the elder's chest.  "What's that?" he asked, pointing a little finger at a picture of a tall, purple plant.

"That's lavender. It's said to have calming properties."

"Oh. What's that?"

"That's a plant called belladonna. It's poisonous, so if you see one, steer clear of it."

"What if I see two?"

"If you see _any_ , just _don't_ go near them and _don't_ try to eat them."

"'Kay. What's that?"

"That's witch's hazel..."

* * *

 

What seemed like hours passed and Glóin  grew increasingly more restless. How could his brother spend hours a day reading such an awful, boring book?

"Will you stop wriggling, please?"

"Will you stop studyin', please?"

"I'm nearly finished, just be patient."

"How many pages have you got to read?"

"Four. Just keep still for ten minutes and I'll put the book away, alright?"

"Has ten minutes gone yet?" Glóin  asked barely twenty seconds later.

"No. I'll tell you when it has. Try and be quiet for me, please."

He did try. But he had been waiting for a _very_ long time, and was growing more and more bored with each passing second. He was actually getting sleepy and decided maybe playing with his big brother could wait until tomorrow. Surely Óin would be finished studying after finishing his flower book? He sat up and began sliding off his brother's lap. His foot came into sudden and painful contact with the rung on the chair and he yelped, grasping at the first thing he could touch.

_The page his brother was reading._

There was a resounding 'shhlip' and the younger landed wobbling on his feet, realizing shortly before Óin that he was holding half the page. He looked up at him, wondering if his brother knew, only to know for certain that Óin _definitely_ knew. He'd seen Óin cross or worried or, even, scared for him before, but he'd never seen such rage directed at his person from his sibling until this moment. He stepped back. 

Óin growled, snapping the book shut and slamming it down. _"You little brat!"_

"I didn't mean to, it was an accident," the young redhead almost wailed, but to no avail. His big brother looked like Adad did when he'd done something bad and that was what gave him the inspiration to run from him.

"Don't you run from me, you smooth-faced bratling! When I get my hands on you, you're _dead_!" 

Needless to say, this only made Glóin  run faster. He scrambled up the stairs and bolted into their room as quickly as his little legs could take him and darted under his bed, panting wildly.

"Where are you?" Óin muttered, having caught up. His heavy footsteps could be heard moving closer to where his little brother hid and Glóin's ears picked up the familiar sounds of Amad and Adad returning. Their door was open, maybe, just maybe he could run to safety...

He crawled out quickly and sprinted out, but his brother was too quick and, not knowing what else to do, the younger began calling for help as his arm was grabbed. More footsteps. Then Amad's warning cry of, "stop!" and the thump-thump of Adad's boots on the wooden floor reached their youngest son's ears. 

"What's going on?!" Gróin demanded. "Óin, let your brother go this minute." As his son obeyed, a slightly appalled look growing in his bright black eyes, he growled, "go and wait for us downstairs." 

Amad picked him up and her warm fingertips gently tipped his chin up. "What happened, sweetling?"

"I didn't mean to."

Adad craned his neck over Amad's  shoulder to look at his youngest son. "Aye, little ruby, we believe you, but what happened? Your brother never gets this angry, 'specially not with you."

"I..I ripped his book."

Both parents' eyebrows shot up. "Why?" Amad asked.

"I didn't _mean_ to!"

"Yes, we know, but why?" 

"It was an accident."

"How did the accident happen?" Adad asked. Then, after a short spell of thinking, he added, "best tell us from the beginning, little ruby."

"Well, I was bored and he wouldn't play-"

"So you ripped his book?"

"Let the boy finish,  Gróin." Amad chided. "Go on, sweetling."

"He said I could read with him, so I climbed up with him and he teached me about flowers. But then it got even boringer, and I got tired, so I got down, but I tripped and didn't want to fall, so I reached back and got the page of his book and then it ripped and then he was angry."

There was a short silence while his parents digested this information. Adad started rubbing his head, which he only did when he was trying to think up ways of explaining things. Amad was oddly contemplative.

"I see," said Adad at last. "Hmm. Why don't you let Amad get you in your pyjamas? I'll find your brother and talk to him."

* * *

Óin gave Gróin a distinctly uncertain look which made the elder dwarrow close his eyes briefly before looking back at his firstborn. "Sit down, lamb. I'm not angry with you, so wipe that fearful look off your face." Sitting beside him, he took one of his hands. "I hear the book was damaged."

"Mm."

"Can you give it here, so I can see whether it can be fixed?"

Óin passed him a crinkled page and the heavy book. Gróin  eyed the page and its previous location and gave a nod. "If we're careful, we might be able to mend it. Now. What were you going to do with your brother when you had him?"

"I..I don't know Adad."

"It looked to me like you were going to punch him unconscious."

Gróin's voice was calm and his face betrayed nothing. Óin shook his head helplessly. "I really don't know. I'd never want to hurt him, but I was so angry-"

"Why were you angry, lamb?"

"I was trying to study and he wouldn't leave me alone and then...I know it was an accident, but I was so annoyed with him..."

Noticing how upset he was becoming,  Gróin squeezed his hands tightly to get his attention, speaking in soft, coaxing tones. "Come now, I understand..."

"No, you don't! You never had a little brother, or even a sister!"

" _Don't_ interrupt, 'specially not in that tone," his father firmly chided. "You're right, however. But I remember how irritating I must have been and the more I think on't, the more amazed I am that Fundin never tried to kill me." There was a moment of silence as Óin thought about this information. Gróin gave his hands another squeeze. "Yes. I know younger brothers can be a handful. But did you ever think why he was trying so hard to catch your attention?"

Óin blinked at him. _"My attention?"_

"Indeed. Lamb, little ones need attention nearly constantly. Otherwise they simply believe the one who is ignoring them doesn't care for them in the same way. When you were little, you never left us alone because you needed your mammy and da's attention and affection. Glóin needs yours." Gróin paused. "Lamb, we've been gone for three hours now. And I know you were about to study as we left. How long before we came back did your brother start badgering you?"

"'Bout an hour."

"So he left you alone to study for a good long while."

"Yes."

"Look at me, lamb. I know the studying is important, but when we leave you to watch your brother, we mean _literally_ watch him. You know how easily he finds mischief to get up to."

Óin nodded and looked at his father. "Is Amad angry?"

"No, laddie. I think she might have a new grey in her head, but I don't expect she'll hold it against you."

"Will he forgive me?"

Standing to kiss his firstborn's head, Gróin nodded. "Aye, I expect he will."

"I'm sorry I lost my temper, Adad."

The near break in Óin's voice made Gróin's heart hurt.  Pulling him into his arms, he gently rubbed his back before speaking again. "No harm was done, lamb. But never make to hit your brother again, aye? He's still very little and I vow you were going to whack him one with all your strength."

"I won't,"  Óin said, voice slightly muffled.

"Good. Why don't you go up and see him, laddie?"

"Will he want to see me?"

"Yes," answered Gróin in a very certain tone. "'Course. On your way now, lamb."

 


End file.
